


Wings of Wax

by torikasa



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hunters, Horror, M/M, Slow Build, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-08 16:05:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1947450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torikasa/pseuds/torikasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haven't you ever heard that saying?</p>
<p>"Don't fly too close to the sun."</p>
<p>Because it's not a metaphorical quote. It's not saying that you shouldn't go beyond your limitations, or that you shouldn't become arrogant and ignorant, or that you shouldn't rely solely on technology to accomplish your goals.</p>
<p>It's a warning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wings of Wax

"Nice shot!"

A horrifying wail echoed through the vastness of the skies above them as the black winged creature, wounded and paralyzed from a single bullet right in the middle of one of its wings, plummeted down toward the earth with a velocity that exceeded the capacity of the hunters' visions. All they saw was a pathetic drop of a black speck against pale blue skies; and, with cold, hearty laughs, they all cheered at the downfall of such a majestic creature, as if they had just thwarted a villainous corruption with a single strike. Yet, this was a common event for all of them, and for each of them, they were able to pierce one or two of these black birds every day, again and again hearing the same deafening cry—the final prayers of a slain king of the sky.

And, naturally, everyone cheered after every kill. All except one lone, young boy in the corner, his dark eyes expressionless and his lips curled down into what seemed like a permanent grimace. Surely, with his brooding demeanor, his type typically wouldn't indulge in celebrations either way; but the face he made whenever he heard the boisterous cackles among the other men, the way he glared at the group slapping each other on the back, made it seem like he made sure to distance himself carefully as if to say he wasn't one of them. He wasn't purposely killing these poor, defenseless creatures for the sport, but rather, he was here for the sake of getting food on his table.

After a kill under his own hands, he would sneak away from the jovial men among him and take long, quiet strides toward the direction of the dead bird, anticipating a hearty dinner to come. Today, in particular, the young boy, with perceptive dark eyes always gazing at the blues above him, noticed something particularly strange about their kill today, and that was how the black winged creature, strangely enough, looked almost to be about the size of an average human. From afar, it would have been difficult to notice, but another thing that the young boy found a bit odd about the struck creature was also what seemed like an almost human-like cry of pain that was much unlike the final prayers of the crows he has heard countless of times over the years.

Because of all the strange circumstances surrounding the creature's kill, the young boy subconsciously rode with much longer strides, his steps quickening alongside the beating of his heart. The excitement from this enigma was overwhelming him, so much so that he found himself stumbling over tree roots more often than usual. Navigation through the trees suddenly became a little more difficult as he delved deeper into it, and before he realized it, he found himself in the part of the woods he had never encountered before; and there was still no sign of the black winged creature, causing him great distress. His face had subdued traces of panic, but he forced himself to keep a cool composure, slowing down his pace enough to be able to distinguish his surroundings and to be able to be wary of any possible predators lurking around the woods. Every step shot a dose of anxiety through him, but he continued to trudge on, determined to find the black winged creature.

He stumbled again, on a rough, lonesome rock this time, but he regained his cool composure and heightened his senses. Suddenly, some rustling noises were coming from behind him, and almost immediately, as if on instinct, the young boy swung his head around as he steadily readied his hunting rifle in its proper position, ready to shoot at a moment's notice. He was mindful of his steps, careful not to step on a stray crunchy leaf or a weakened twig, and as he made his way closer to the source of the noise, the rustling started to die down into a gentle buzz. Without a hint of hesitation, he pushed aside the bushes with a single hand, and with the other hand, held his weapon close to his chest, hugging it tightly. Beyond the vegetation laid one of the most miraculous sights he had ever seen: a smallish figure in the middle of a cleared field, its majestic ebony wings acting much like a blanket to comfort the boy. Though, the young hunter noticed dark red oozing out of the left wing, dripping slowly down each feather in an almost artistic manner. The creature was surreal, breathtaking too, and for a moment, the hunter wasn't able to move, paralyzed much like how the creature was.

After a few more moments in awe, the young boy was finally able to knock himself out of his reverie and recollect his main intent. With curiosity evident in his blue eyes, the boy meandered around the roots strewn across the otherwise barren open field and closed the gap between him and the black winged creature. Once he was almost at arm's length beside the creature, he began to notice the more delicate features it had, like how its face, half-hidden by its position, was much like that of a human child's, the outline of his mien soft and gentle. His bright eyelashes corresponded with the strange orange color of his hair, which resembled a fiery shrub that was ready to spread to his wings and catch them on fire any second now. While his curiosity was piqued before, he now felt like his fascination with the black winged creature was reaching levels that he would call crazy. What exactly was this creature and what was it doing around a popular hunting ground, he wondered to himself, his muses weaving around his mind like a spider web, each thought branching out more and more until his thoughts were filled with nothing but the black winged creature. Why did it have features that resembled a human's? How on earth has it never been spotted before? Did it... did it have a name?

Before he could contemplate on the matter any further, he started to hear raspy yells from further back into the woods. Immediately, he recognized the voices as his hunting crew. He stole a quick gaze at the wounded creature on the ground and, with a blurry resolve, picked the creature up and carried it on his back, running the opposite direction from the noisy men. He couldn't quite run with something so heavy on his back, so he settled on a brisk jog, avoiding any sort of fumbling and stumbling for the sake of the creature's safety. He began to feel liquid trickling down the back of his legs, and for some enigmatic reason, that caused him to hurry his pace into something more like a sprint, slow enough to be careful of the devious forest floor.

Soon enough, he found himself finding less and less trees in his path, and eventually he was able to escape the grip of the forest as well as the yells of the other hunters. Exhausted, he sat down and gently laid the black winged creature on the grassy flats beside him. He tried to catch his breath, but he continued heaving heavily, the perspiration on his face sliding down to his lips, and the salty taste of his sweat suddenly energized him. When he stared down at the shuffling figure beside him, he realized he was unsure of what to do. Before he began to run, he actually didn't think of some convoluted plan to do anything with the winged creature, anyway; there was just an instinctive feeling, maybe even a need, to try to protect the small figure. It looked helpless, he reasoned to himself, and since it was he who had shot the creature, he was completely responsible for it,

So, with a more steely resolve intact, he hung the unconscious creature on his aching back once more and continued to run again, this time settling on returning to his abode in order to inspect and treat its wounds. It didn't take long before the young boy was able to traverse back to his cabin home, the sun just starting to set, cowering behind the tall mountains in the background.

He kicked the door open and gently placed the black winged creature on his wooden bed, looking around to look particular items to clean up the wound. With swift movements, the young boy grabbed a stray wash cloth from the ground and dipped it in some water until it was only slightly damp, then made his way toward the black winged creature.

His piercing gaze fell down to the dripping red spot on the wings. He settled the damp washcloth on the wound, applying slight pressure. Underneath his hands, he felt the smallish figure squirming in discomfort, and almost instinctively, he lessened his pressure and began to tenderly caress the spot. The creature continued to squirm but with less vigor, so the young boy continued to move his calloused hands across the entirety of the wings, the softness of the feathers tickling the palm of his hands. The supple texture of the wings calmed him, and suddenly, he felt his eyes starting to feel heavy and his body feeling weak.

He removed his hands away from the creature and crawled a couple feet away, coming closer to the lit fireplace. Rolling himself up in a ball, much like how his cat used to do, he finally succumbed to the heaviness in his eyes and fell asleep, the last image in his mind being the black winged creature, flying off into the deep blues with a smile...

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, another WIP I'll be working on. I actually wrote this a couple weeks ago and already have part of the second chapter done, as well as an actual outline this time so it'll probably be easier to write. Figured I should post this up now before I forget about it and it's forever lost in Internet limbo. Because I haven't installed Word yet and have been writing everything on the Drafts thing and hoping I finish everything before a month. ;A;


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